We, modern nomads, economic refugees, chameleons without land and heritage, yet with skills and knowledge – we belong everywhere and nowhere. Ever since I was a young young girl, I knew my destiny will be carved in a Latin wisdom: omnia mea mecum porto. That was how I was raised – that was my heritage. My parents never invested in material things – they invested in our education. “Everything else you can loose,” my mother used to say, “but what you know is who you are”. This proved more than true so many times. Witnessing migrations in the Balkans, from my teenage years until now, I am even more grateful for being released of a burden of material heritage.

My obsession with tradition is purely intellectual. I live in here and now, but love reading history books and imagining the things of the past. I indulge in mystery novels of the middle ages and cherish writers who easily transpose time.  All is one, I believe the pain of the people then and of the people now is of the same essence.

I wonder: if your past is your present, can you ever be truly free? Still I enjoy the traditional christmas biscuits soirée at friends, and admire the objects of centennial love and dedication.


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